


A Wilde Omen

by Inyw21



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Fluff, M/M, Spoilers through 177, Tea, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27996054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inyw21/pseuds/Inyw21
Summary: Wilde wakes up in a strange place....
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	A Wilde Omen

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YamiKakyuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamiKakyuu/gifts).



> Hello lovely reader! This fic was a secret santa gift I wrote for my giftee! I had a lot of fun writing it!  
> Also thank you to zombierobin for being my beta as usual!

Aziraphale was busy in his shop. The world nearly ending was good for business, he supposed. It didn’t hurt that he had lots of books on various mythologies- each with their own version of Armageddon. Everyone was very interested in the end of the world all of a sudden. He didn’t really get what all the commotion was about. One end of the world was more than enough for him, thank you very much. 

The shop itself was a cozy little thing. As you walked in, there were shelves upon shelves of books, not to mention the haphazard stacks everywhere. Despite the chaos, Aziraphale was able to find any book that anyone needed in just a few moments. There were chairs scattered throughout in the perfect spots to capture the afternoon sun that were very popular on winter afternoons as London did have a tendency to get a tad nippy after all. 

However, there was always one chair that always got left free- no matter how busy the shop got. Everyone avoided it, though no one could say why. Crowley could tell you. This was  _ his _ chair, the one he napped in whenever he felt like it, often in snake form. Whenever he did this, he hid himself so only Aziraphale could see him; this tended to make the patrons of the shop more at ease. Snakes, for some reason, were bad for business. 

The afternoon in question was a perfectly normal afternoon. The sun was coming in at just the right angle for a nap so Crowley decided to take one while Aziraphale tended to the shop. It wasn’t that Crowley didn’t like the shop and business, he just wasn’t the most personable on a good day- more inclined to hissing than making nice with customers. With that thought running through his head, Crowley made his way over to his chair. And stopped. 

“Angel, why is something sleeping in my chair?” he called.

“Who?” Aziraphale came up behind him and peered over his shoulder. 

Sitting, or rather  _ sleeping _ , in Crowley’s chair was what appeared to be a man. One could never be too sure, considering the inhuman origins of the pair. The man had chocolatey brown hair that gave Crowley’s a run for its money, a very young face, and the most outrageous outfit. It put Crowley’s to shame. Not only was the jacket peacock patterned, but it was so  _ bright _ . The clothes practically popped out in the store, which was mostly muted reds. The suit in question was a mix of purple, blue, black, and green. There was a hint of white poking out that looked to be either a cravat or a shirt. The person was very handsome in a classical way. They had a thinner face and frame, and looked like they might be very tall, taller than Crowley even. No matter how the person got there, they did look like they needed sleep. 

“Who do you suppose they are?” asked Aziraphale.

“No idea, was hoping you would know,” replied Crowley. He was very cross that his afternoon nap was being interrupted by some stranger. 

“Well I certainly have never seen him around the shop before. But he does look familiar, I can’t quite say why though.”

*****

Wilde woke up. He could hear two people talking above him and neither of their voices were familiar to him. He decided to pretend to still be asleep while he tried to take stock of the situation. He seemed to be in a rather comfy chair. The sun was coming in through a window at just the right angle. It sounded like he might be in some form of book shop, based on the quietness and rustling of lots of pages. It also smelled like aged paper. He could hear lots of self driving carriages from outside. Lots more than he’d ever encountered at once, even in Paris. Then there was the general noise of lots of people on a crowded street. That he was used to. 

The voices above him seemed to have stopped for the time being. He couldn’t tell if the people they belonged to were still hovering above him or not and he supposed he’d have to “wake up” sooner rather than later so he could fully take stock of his situation. As he opened his eyes, he saw that he was indeed in a bookshop of some kind. There were more books crammed everywhere than he thought was possible. The two people in question were still standing in front of him. They were also staring at him like he had just sprouted wings. 

One was dressed in a nice white suit with a powder blue shirt underneath. They had on a cheeky bowtie that worked with the outfit instead of against it like most bow ties were wont to do. They had a round, cherubic face and seemed generally the sort of person that was very soft in every sense. The other person was the exact opposite. They were all angles and sharp edges in black trousers and a black leather jacket over a black shirt.  _ Reminds me of Sasha, _ Wilde thought. 

“Well, this is certainly a surprise,” Wilde stated. “I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you fine people.”

The soft one looked immediately kind and appeared like they were about to speak, but the other one got there first. “Who are you and what are you doing in my chair?” This came out more of a hiss than anything. 

“Oh I beg your pardon, I had no idea this was  _ your  _ chair! And as for who I am- I’m Oscar Wilde.”

“So that’s why you look familiar! I knew I recognized you!” The soft one’s face lit up like they had just gotten the best present. “I love your work!”

“Oh a fan! How delightful! But may I ask who you are? And maybe get some clue as to where I am?” Wilde looked between the two of them with a face he hoped was open and also a bit confused.

“Oh my dear you’re in London! This is my bookshop. I’m Aziraphale and this is Crowley. He’s a bit cross because, well, this is his napping chair and no one sits in it.”

“Well then, I apologize Crowley. I do not know how I ended up here so I cannot be entirely to blame for ending up in your chair.”

“Well Angel over here explained the gist of it. He tends to do that.” Crowley still looked a bit put out, but he didn’t look like he was going to bite Wilde anymore. “As for how you got here, we can’t give you any more insight and were hoping you’d know.”

“Well, last thing I remember was the airship going down,” Wilde tried to explain.  _ Oh God the airship _ . 

“Airship? Do you mean a plane?” Aziraphale looked puzzled.

“No, an airship. Hard to miss, it was massive.”

“Well we haven’t seen a massive anything in the air lately,” Crowley replied.

“Huh, well I suppose this could be a different plane of existence then. Which means I probably died. Oh, everyone will be most upset.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Wilde, but you seem to be very much alive, at least as far as I can tell.”

“Thank you Aziraphale, that’s quite kind of you. But seeing as I’m not in my reality, something must have happened to me.”

“Well, since none of us know what happened, why don’t we table the discussion,” suggested Aziraphale. 

“Splendid plan, perhaps a cup of tea?” inquired Wilde. Since he was in London, he thought he might as well act like it, regardless of  _ where _ it was specifically in the larger universe.

“I think tea would do nicely, perhaps a bit of cake as well?” Aziraphale looked quite excited by the prospect of cake and who was Wilde to say no. 

With that thought in mind, Wilde stood up and followed Aziraphale to the back room. This room was also filled with books, but there was also a small table and a small tea kettle on the counter. Some of the tea was called “Tea Means Amazing”, “Good Aromas”, and “Rather Quality Green Tea”. Wilde thought these were very odd names for tea, but since he didn’t know where he was, he figured it was just part of the times. 

Aziraphale filled the kettle from a sink in the corner and Crowley went straight to a cupboard and pulled out some mugs. The way they interacted gave Wilde the impression that they had done this many times before and had perfected the art of dancing around each other in the space, so Wilde just stood back and watched it all happen. 

“So Mr. Wilde, maybe you can tell us what you remember?” Aziaraphale was leaning with his back to the counter with the kettle on it. 

“Well I’m not quite sure actually. I was on an airship with my colleagues when we found out it was going to crash. I sort of remember flying through the air, and then nothing else before I woke up in that chair. Which is lovely by the way.” He said that last part at Crowley in hopes of making him less cross. 

“Yeah it is. That’s why it’s  _ my _ chair,” Crowley glared. 

“Quite right.”

With that, the kettle clicked off and the water was ready. Aziraphale poured water and passed out mugs to everyone. There was a small milk pitcher and sugar bowl set on the table. Wilde helped himself to a splash of milk and a generous scoop of sugar as he continued his explanation.

“I was trying to stop the end of the world see-”

“We already did that,” Crowley cut in.

“Ok well then the end of my world as I’m clearly in a different one.”

“Well yes, I would think so! You’ve been dead for quite some time!” Aziraphale chimed in.

“Excuse me?” Wilde aske, shocked. It was quite rude to go about proclaiming people dead after all.

“Well yes, you’re a very famous author, but in our world, you’ve been dead for quite some time.”

Wilde sighed. Of course things would have to be even more complicated. That just seemed to be his life. Ever since university. Even before becoming a Meritocratic agent. Nothing was ever simple in his life.

“I suppose this isn’t a terrible afterlife then. I am quite fond of books obviously and you seem to be quite enjoyable company.”

“You can’t stay!” Crowely looked downright horrified at the idea. 

“Crowley!” Aziriaphale admonished. “That is very rude of you dear, he’s lost out of time! Of course we need to help him. Nothing a few miracles can’t fix I’m sure!”

“I’m sorry, miracles? I don’t take your meaning, is that like magic?”

“I-I suppose some might call it that?”

“Ok, is it like this?” With that, Wilde began to softly hum and small specks of light appeared out of nowhere and floated around Crowley’s head. The biggest grin spread across Wilde’s face as he realized he could do magic here. No cuffs to protect from a curse. It had been so long since he’d been able to do the simple things in life.

“What is all this?” Crowley groussed as the lights continued drifting around his head. “This isn’t like one of your miracles, Angel.”

“No I suppose not, I don’t hum, usually click.”

“Ah so a wizard or sorcerer then,” Wilde commented. 

“No? I’m an angel of Heaven.”

“Huh, don’t have those where I’m from.”

“This is all fine and good conversation, but it doesn’t help us figure out where you’re from and how to get you back.” Crowley was looking more impatient by the minute. Wilde also noticed that he hadn’t dropped Dancing Lights. He quickly broke concentration with a sheepish look on his face. 

“I’m from a different plane of existence. I don’t know how to get back. Easy. Questions answered.”

“Wh-ngh-no-I-that’s not helpful!” spluttered Crowley. 

“My dear, I don’t think anyone can be of much help right now. Not even Mr. Wilde here. It seems that we are all a bit stumped,” soothed Aziraphale. 

“Precisely! I have no idea what to make of this situation. I’ve not traveled different planes before.”

“Crowley dear, didn’t you travel to that one plane that had the Cosmic Lounge? Perhaps you can give Mr. Wilde some ideas on how to travel.”

“That wasn’t a different plane of existence, Angel. It was a different star system. I think those are a bit different.”

“There’s life outside of Earth?” interjected Wilde.

“Not the point. The point is is that we have no idea how to help you.” Crowley said. 

“Neither do I and frankly, it’s quite liberating. I’ve had an exhausting, oh let’s say life. Saving the world can make a man tired.”

“Unfortunately I don’t have any books on interplanar travel and I doubt Crowley has any at his flat.”

“Of course I don’t, why would I? And do they even write books on that stuff? No one I know knows about any of that stuff. And I know a lot of people.”

“Perhaps it’ll sort itself out. Magical things tend to find a way of fixing themselves one way or another,” Wilde mused. 

“Do they? Well, that’s lovely then. In the meantime, I’m sure we can find somewhere for you to stay,” offered Aziraphale. 

“That’s very kind, but I probably shouldn’t stray too far from where I landed. Just in case.”

“That does make sense. In that case, feel free to explore the bookshop, my dear.”

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

Wilde took the opportunity to leave the back room and really get a look at where he had landed. As he passed the comfy chair he landed in, he caught a brief scent of the ocean and of the cold north that the crew had been flying through.  _ Interesting, guess I was right about staying close. _ He kept walking toward the front of the shop. London looked very different from what he remembered. There were no riots, the streets were dirtier, and there were no signs of any other species other than humans. He wasn’t sure what to make of all this, but decided that staying in the shop was a good idea. 

Eventually, evening came around and Wilde was feeling tired. He assumed he could sleep here without any adverse effects. He made his way back to the chair he landed in and settled in. As he leaned back, he caught the smell of the sea again.  _ Wonder what that’s all about _ he mused as he drifted off to sleep. 

When he woke up, he was sitting in front of the  _ Vengeance _ with his legs over the side of the dock. The dock itself appeared to be floating above the clouds. The ship looked like it was brand new, no damage from the Aurora Borealis or from the crash that surely must have happened.  _ Great. Now where am I? _ The air was a comfortable temperature despite all of the snow clearly visible. This felt more like an afterlife for him, or at least some in between space. He decided to wait to see what happened. With that thought in his head, he again caught the scent of the sea.  _ Interesting _ he mused to himself.  _ Wonder what that’s all about. _ He sighed, and with a smile, waited. 

****

Crowley walked into the shop the next afternoon to take his nap in his chair. When he got there, a peacock feather sat in the center of the seat.  _ What in Hell’s name? _

“Angel! Why is there a feather in my chair?” he called. Aziraphale came over and looked over Crowley’s shoulder.

“I don’t quite know. I supposed it has something to do with Mr. Wilde. He was gone from the shop this morning. I do hope he managed to get where he needed to go.”

“We have no way of knowing where he went, unless we search the whole globe, which I don’t particularly want to do. I just want to nap.”

“Go ahead and do that dear, I don’t think we shall be hearing from Mr. Wilde any time soon.”

With that, Crowley turned into a snake and plopped onto his chair to finally take his nap. Aziraphale smiled fondly at him and went to the back to make himself some tea. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love comments and kudos! Also, go look at YamiKKakyuu on Instagram because they have the most fabulous art! And as always, you can find me on Twitter @inyw21!


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